Bear and Dragon
by XxShadowLunaAmethystxX
Summary: She was a bear, her blood was ice. He was half dragon, half wolf. His blood was half ice, half fire. When the Game of Thrones begins again, they'll have to face it together. Game of Thrones AU. Rated M because, well, it's Game of Thrones.


_**/ Here I am, finally writing another fanfiction. This time- it's Game of Thrones- my newest obsession. I saw what season 8 became, and like most of you, I gasped and cried in pain as Dany's character arc was massacred. Follows the show and a bit of the books, however season 6, (roughly after the Battle of the Bastards), (and Sansa's marriage/rape scene with Ramsey doesn't happen, because I kind of thought that plot point was useless. Sansa wouldn't be in Kings Landing and she will be given as an exchange for Arya, (because honestly, A Wolf Amongst Lions is amazing and I was inspired by that), so I just want to give huge props to Kallyspo for creating an amazing fanfiction. **_

_**However, I'm not sure if like in that fanfiction Jamie/Arya will be endgame, so it's free-range for our dear Arya. I didn't really enjoy the Braavos storyline, so she isn't going to Braavos, and will remain in Kings Landing, (poor Arya), with the lovely Lannister family.**_

_**This is my first GoT fanfiction, so flames, criticism, and feedback are always helpful!**_

_**Winterfell, 289, AC**_

_**Third Person's POV **_

"Her name is Feryre Snow, Your Grace." Peytr Baelish told Eddard Stark as he saw the little girl below him play with a dark-haired boy, roughly around her age. They both held wooden swords, pretending to fight each other, giggling the entire time as they gazed at each other. Jon Snow, aged six, and Feryre Snow, aged six, were playing in the snow in Winterfell. Ned Stark watched as Jon and Feryre continued to play together, a wry smile beginning to form on his lips.

"Promise me, Ned. Keep him safe." He heard Lyanna's words echoed in his mind as he suddenly remembered the tower. Lyanna Stark-Targaryen, begging him to keep her son safe.

Jon. The King of the Seven Kingdoms. Ned suddenly felt a pain in his chest.

"... My Lord?" Peytr Baelish asked. Ned recovered quickly as he looked over at Littlefinger.

"It is nothing, Peytr. Forgive me. Feyre Snow, you said? Who's Father is she?" Ned asked quietly as he looked down at the children again. Robb was playing with Theon Greyjoy on the other side, both boys laughing. Ned knew Sansa would be with Sept Mordane, sewing and doing ladylike things girls in the South were supposed to learn. He sighed at that.

He had tolerated Catelyn's request for allowing the children to learn the ways of the South, but the children were Starks. They were of the North. In the North, there were no Lords or Ladies. There were only warriors. He saw Kierra Stark, Sansa's twin sister run out into the snow, but stopped and scowled slightly at Jon and Feryre, who paid her no attention. Kierra was five minutes older than Sansa and looked like an almost exact replica of Sansa, except her eyes were brown. She gave her father a look before quicking running back inside.

Jon tackled Feyre down, making the bastard girl squeal.

"Jon!" The six-year-old cried, her wooden sword abandoned, the older boy on top of her.

"Got you, Feryre!" Jon grinned. Feryre giggled and looked up at him, her blue eyes shining. The six-year-old Jon placed a kiss on her cheek sloppily, making the girl squeal in surprise, and she managed to shove him off of her due to Jon's shock.

"Ew! Jon, that's nasty!" The six-year-old cried. Jon looked at her.

"But Father and Lady Catelyn do it all the time!" Jon protested. Feryre looked at him. The six-year-old girl looked a little angry, as angry as a six-year-old girl could be, pouting slightly.

"Lady Catelyn's a meanie!" Feryre yelled. Jon looked at her, mouth agape.

"Fey! Be nice!" Jon protested again. Feryre shook her head, completely fixed on what she had said.

"No! She's mean to you! I don't like seeing you sad," Feryre spoke bitterly. Jon looked at her.

Ned had been watching the exchange, hearing the conversation down below. Ned felt bad for Jon, having to lie to Jon and Catelyn. After he had returned with Jon, Catelyn had avoided him for an entire week, and remained cold to Jon, due to his "parentage." Ned felt like telling his wife Jon's true parentage.

He wanted to. But he had to keep the promise to Lyanna.

So he didn't. He tore his gaze away from the two and returned to Littlefinger.

"She is Maege Mormont's late husband's bastard. Lady Mormont legalized her a year ago." Littlefinger replied. Ned remembered that. The late Lord Mormont had fought in Robert's Rebellion, being slain in battle, but not before smuggling Feryre into Bear Island, to the surprise of Maege, who had read the letter that came with the babe. She didn't know how to handle it at first, the other trueborn daughters, Dacey, Alysane, Lyra, Jorelle, and Lyanna. Alysane had two children- a girl of nine, and a boy of two. Lyra, Jorelle, and Lyanna were far too young. Lyra would have only been two at this point, Jorelle and Lyanna being born roughly around a year ago.

"She would stand to be next in line after Alysane's son, sir. From what Maege has told me, she has learned to fight ever since she could walk, the same as Jon Snow." Littlefinger continued, as he continued to watch the two talk down below before Feryre huffed and grabbed her sword, running off. Jon protested, running after her as Ned turned to Littlefinger.

"I need to speak to Catelyn. Peytr, if you would accompany me, please?" Ned asked.

"Of course, My Lord." Peytr smiled at the mention of Catelyn, which made Ned pause, before he walked back into the solace, the other man following him.

"Fey! Wait up!" Jon yelled as he continued to chase Feryre in the castle walls of Winterfell. The bastard girl continued to run deeper into Winterfell, before heading into her guest room, opening the door and slamming it shut with a loud bang.

"Fey! Open the door!" Jon protested, but Feryre didn't budge. She was quite stubborn for a six-year-old, shaking her head at the closed door on the other side.

"Fey, please!" The six-year-old remained sitting on the floor near her bed, beginning to shake.

Growing up, she always knew she was a bastard. The looks the Northerns would give her only confirmed her fears. They treated her with respect since she was a highborn bastard, but would still sneer at her, hearing them call her, "bastard girl," and "a disgrace," to the Mormont House. When she wouldn't be training with her half-sisters, she would be in her room, crying her eyes out because all she wanted was to be acknowledged as a Mormont. She loved Bear Island. The cold temperature. The roaring water as the port would come in. The sounds of the boys and girl sparring and laughing as she would run by.

It had been a year since she had been legalized, and while she was happy that she was finally acknowledged, she still felt a little hollow inside.

"Fey!" That made her snap out of her self-pitying session, and the smaller girl had gotten up to open the door. Jon had wept tears of his own, before hugging the other bastard girl tightly, almost crushing her. But she didn't really care. She was hugging her best friend and that was all that mattered.

"I'm sorry, Jon. I just hate it when she looks at you like that." Feryre mumbled into his shoulder as the two went into her room, the two of them closing the door behind each other, climbing into her huge bed together.

He knew the feeling too well. Catelyn would glare at him, never really speaking to him, as she viewed him as a product of her husband's infidelity. She had encouraged the other Stark siblings to do the same, but Robb and Jon were attached to the hip, almost. Sansa and Kierra would keep their distance from Jon, something he didn't find was nice. Sansa and Kierra were both cold, just like Catelyn. They always ran out of the room when Jon was near, and it made him sad sometimes. But, the two-year-old Arya adored Jon. She would smile and giggle around him, and sometimes hold his sword, to the horror of Catelyn, who would shoo Jon out of the room and take Arya away from Jon, in which the infant would cry for hours on end until she either saw Jon or Feryre when she would come to visit Winterfell from Bear Island.

"I know. But Fey, I can't control that. Besides, I'm used to it." Jon sighed as she laid her head quietly in his shoulder.

"You shouldn't be."

Jon didn't know how to respond to that.

.

.

.

"Catelyn. We need to talk." Ned spoke to his wife. Catelyn Tully-Stark, red-haired, blue-eyed, wearing the fur of the North, turned her head to him. Petyr looked at her, which she chose to ignore.

"What is it, Ned?" Catelyn asked.

"We need to talk about Jon and Feryre." Ned replied. Catelyn curled her lip slightly at the mention of the two bastard children but nodded.

"I was thinking of setting up a marriage for the two of them." Ned offered. Catelyn's eyebrow raised.

"Two bastards being paired together?" She asked.

"Technically it is Feryre Mormont now. She is acknowledged." Petyr replied to her.

"I think it would be best to betrothed the two. They are best friends, and Bear Island is not far off from Winterfell." Ned continued as if Petyr hadn't even butted in.

"It would at least make him the Lord of Bear Island if Alysane chooses to decline to be the Lady of Bear Island." Petyr added.

_And it would keep Jon safe from Robert. Robert would murder Jon if he found out Ned was hiding a Targaryen in Winterfell, right under his nose._

As Ned looked at Catelyn, he waited for a response.

"Well, I see no harm in putting Jon with Feryre then, Ned. As you said, they are best friends. We will need Maege's consent of this as well." Catelyn replied.

"Very well. I will have Feryre send a letter to Maege on her way back to Bear Island." Ned deduced. Catelyn nodded stiffly and quickly left the room, Petyr following only a few seconds afterward. Ned sighed.

_Lyanna. Help me._

.

.

.

A few days later, Feryre had to go back to Bear Island. The six-year-old Jon didn't want her to leave. He pleaded with Ned Stark to let her stay another day, but Ned had insisted that she had to go home. He had locked himself in his room until he was informed by one of the maids Feryre was leaving. He had scrambled to get his breeches on with his tunic, his sword at the ready as the six-year-old ran to where Feryre and a Mormont soldier would take their carriage to the docks to get back to Bear Island.

The boy had stumbled out to meet with the rest of the Stark family, standing a few meters away from Kierra as he saw Feryre say their goodbyes.

"Jon!" Freyre spoke excitedly. He embraced her tight, making her giggle. Maybe it was a trick of the wind, but when the snow had fallen on Feryre's face, a piece had fallen in on her dark hair.

The six-year-old had thought at that moment, she looked like the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

He didn't respond back to her. Instead, he hugged her tighter, as if his entire world was going to fall apart.

"Lady Feryre, we must leave." The soldier grunted.

"Yes, Kira. Bye Jon! Bye, bye, Arya!" Feryre waved to the infant that Catelyn Stark held in her arms, hearing Arya giggle and gurgle at Feryre's voice. Jon saw Catelyn give her a look of slight disgust, but the six-year-old ignored it.

"You'll come back won't you?" His voice was muffled.

"Promise me you'll come back." Came his muffled question.

"I promise," Feryre spoke to him. She pulled away from their embrace, Jon internally crying out from the loss of her touch, but watched with teary eyes as Kira and Feryre walked away, heading to the carriage.

_Come back. I miss you already._

.

.

.

When Feryre had returned to Bear Island and given the letter to her stepmother, Maege Mormont tore the letter open, seeing Ned's familiar handwriting.

_**Maege,**_

_**I write to you to suggest a betrothal between my bastard son, Jon Snow, and your newly legalized daughter, Feryre. As you know, Feryre and Jon are fond of each other. However, I must tell you, it is for both of their sakes. I ask you to have Dacey step down as Heir to Bear Island, if she does not want the role already. **_

Maege Mormont, a woman and lady of five and fifty, raised an eyebrow at Ned's letter. She knew Feryre and the Jon boy were close. Those two could never be apart.

And, she knew that Dacey did not desire to be Lady of Bear Island. Like her other siblings, Dacey was more concerned with fighting. Like Alysane. Like Feryre.

Pursing her lips, she continued to read the rest of Ned's letter.

_**Catelyn has already agreed to the match. Please send a raven to either confirm or deny the match. I can assure you that Jon will take care of Feryre.**_

Maege had scoffed at that. Jon didn't need to take care of Feryre. As for the girl, she knew that children were naive. Feryre would grow out of her naivety and mature. The girl could take care of herself. She thrived well on Bear Island. All the women, and children were warriors. She could tell Feryre enjoyed the cold climate of Bear Island. The bastard-turned-highborn would take care of herself just fine.

_**I also wish to speak to you the next time we meet. It is of an urgent matter. Please, send a raven as quickly back to me as you can. **_

_**Yours,**_

_**Ned Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North**_

Maege read over the letter. Again. And again. She pondered the idea of it all. Would Feryre be happy to be betrothed to Jon Snow?

She snorted in an unlikely lady manner, but when was she ever a lady?

Of course Feryre would happy. The girl adored the Snow bastard. Jon wouldn't ever be cruel to her daughter. Feryre would inherit Bear lsland in her name as a Mormont. Most likely, she would keep her name, just as Maege had when taking her own husband years ago.

_** Ned,**_

_**I agree to your terms. Feryre Mormont shall be betrothed to your bastard. She will not be named Lady of Bear Island until my death day. I can assure you that Feryre can take care of herself, and it shall be the other way around, that she will take care of your bastard. If there are no other concerns, I shall send this raven to you, and we will discuss your urgent matter as soon as my family and I head back to Winterfell.**_

_** Yours,**_

_** Maege Mormont, Lady of Bear Island**_

"Maester! Send this raven to Winterfell!"

.

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_**Winterfell, 297, AC**_

It took eight years for them to reunite again. Snow and Mormont were both fourteen, Jon beginning to grow a slight beard. He had grown taller than the last time he had seen Feryre, standing roughly about five foot six. His hair had gotten longer, almost reaching the back of his neck, tousled in curls. Feryre on the other hand, her dark hair had fallen to her elbows, standing at five foot two.

The Mormont family was visiting Winterfell, due to an invitation by Ned. The North didn't have any holidays, but the Stark and Mormont families tended to visit around the time when the Godswood would be at its strongest: Winter.

Feryre was excited. She had missed Jon and was excited to show him her sword that Maege and she had picked out a couple of months prior. It was valyrian steel, mimicking the look of Longclaw, the sword of her ancestral Mormont house. She had seen Longclaw after Jorah Mormont had been banished years prior, after sneaking a look at it before Maege gave it back to Jeor, who was still at the Wall.

"It cannot look exactly like Longclaw, my dear. We wouldn't want people to mistake your sword as Longclaw, now would we?" Maege teased lightly. Feryre only laughed in response as she looked at her stepmother and nodded.

"Auntie Fey!" Klara, the nine-year-old girl giggled. Feryre bent down slightly to meet her niece. The Mormont flag, with their signature bear, loomed in the distance on top of the ship.

"Yes, Klara?" Feryre responded as she sat down with her. Klara giggled as she sat in her lap, getting a soft sound of surprise from the older girl.

"Ow," she utterly quietly, but the nine-year-old paid her no attention.

"I wanna hear a story!" Klara clapped her hands together.

"A story?" Feryre replied.

"Uh-huh! The story of Rheagar and Lyanna!" Klara replied.

Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. The biggest love story ever. The event that sparked Robert's Rebellion. Feryre pursed her lips a little.

She had heard of Robert Baratheon. Whether she liked him or not was up for debate. Truly, she didn't know much about him, only that he was married to Ceresi Lannister, the most beautiful woman of Westeros. Feryre disagreed. True, she looked like a true Lannister, like her twin brother, Jamie, but she did not like the woman. Rumors of her made her slightly awry of her. She had heard rumors of Tyrion Lannister too. How he was a dwarf, how his mother, Joanna died giving birth to him. Tywin Lannister practically became a shell of his former self. Feryre felt slight pity for the man.

"Rhaegar and Lyanna? Again? But I didn't I tell you this story last week, K?" Feryre replied teasingly to her, making Klara giggle.

"Yes! But I wanna hear it again! Again!" Klara clapped her hands together. Feryre allowed a chuckle to escape her lips.

"Alright. So, Rhaegar Targaryen was the son of Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen. He was the Crown Prince, adored by everyone. See, his dad was a bit... crazy." Crazy was a nice way to put how Aerys Targaryen was. The former King of the Seven Kingdoms was mad, which gave him the nickname of the Mad King. The mad king was very obsessed with wildfire, and only slept with his wife after an execution. That made Feryre shudder.

She thought about Jon, and what would happen if he was like the Mad King. She imagined herself flinging off the towers of the Red Keep, driven to insanity.

Her cheeks flushed at the thought. The thought of marrying Jon had flashed through her mind, so she slumped her frame down to the ground, Klara placing her frame on her lap.

Of course, she wanted to marry Jon. After all, he was the only boy in her life she wanted to marry. Even though she knew Jon was a bastard, Feryre was legalized now. She wasn't Feryre Snow anymore, only Feryre Mormont showed now.

But there were some times where she knew, deep inside, she would never be a trueborn. Not like her sisters- who were trueborn.

"... Auntie?" Klara tugged her sleeve. Feryre snapped out of her thoughts, looking at her niece.

"Are you thinking about Jon, again?" Klara giggled. Feryre's cheeks flushed hard.

"N-No," she mumbled weakly. Klara only giggled again at her.

"Auntie Feryre's thinking about Jon! Auntie Feryre's thinking about Jon!" Klara clapped and got off of her lap, the story of Rheagar Targayren and Lyanna Stark forgotten, dancing happily.

"Klara! Come over here." Alysane, her mother scolded. Klara's happiness had vanished before her eyes, and the girl walked over to her mother.

"Yes, Mother."

Klana's words still haunted her as the boat continued to sail to Winterfell. Then, his name echoed in her mind, slowly being a prayer.

_Jon. Jon. Jon. _

Finally, at last, they sailed at Winterfell. A Mormont soldier announced that they had arrived, and Feryre woke up groggily from her nap. She had fallen asleep, and yawned, blinking her bright blue eyes, smiling at the feeling of the coldness nipping at her skin.

She got up quickly, dusting off her sword _Visenya_, which she named after the Targayren daughter herself.

"My Lady! We've docked the ship!" A Mormont soldier bellowed. Feryre smiled, seeing Winterfell in the distance.

"Come, dear. The carriage ride will take a while." Maege spoke sternly. Feryre only sent her a grin, and the Mormont family headed off of the ship, and walked to the carriage that would lead them to Winterfell.

.

.

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_**Jon, Winterfell, 297, AC **_

He was excited. Jon Snow was practically smiling, something the bastard hadn't done ever since Feryre had gone away all those years ago.

Sansa was eleven now. Robb fourteen. Arya being ten. Bran and Rickon, both nine and ten, respectively.

But Jon didn't really care about that. Feryre was back. Adrenaline was running through his veins like fire. He grabbed his sword in excitement, lacing his briefs on and stumbling out of his room, eyes bright.

Looking outside of the castle, he could see the carriage pulling up, showing the symbol of a bear.

They were close. She was close.

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_**Winterfell, Third Person's POV, 297, AC **_

Jon and Feryre looked at each other, eyes wide at each other as the carriage stopped. The door opened, and Maege walked out, followed by Dacey, Alysane, (with her son Jeor, named after his uncle, and Klara) Lyra, Jorelle, Lyanna, and finally, Feryre. They were all wearing men's clothes.

Jon stared at Feryre, eyes wide. Her hair was free, flowing down to her elbows. Her bright eyes smiled at him. He could get lost in those eyes any day.

That was when he knew, he was in love with Feryre Mormont. So, he ran over and hugged her tightly, (Old Gods be damned, manners be damned), and smiled.

"I missed you, Snow." Feryre's soft teasing tone breathed out.

"I missed you too, Mormont." Came his breathed out teasing reply. They pulled away slightly at their embrace, and she leaned up slightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"To repay the favor."

_**/ Phew, and there's the first chapter! I got lost in the middle, trying to find inspiration that wasn't there, sadly. My muse came back after blasting the opening theme to Game of Thrones, so luckily I finished the chapter.**_

_**So for extra context: I'm following the date's book version of the story. The fanfic will follow the show and the books, but I'm using the book's dates/years, unlike the show. So, Dany shall be thirteen, just like how old she was in A Game of Thrones, unlike sixteen like she is in the first season of Game of Thrones.**_

_**Consider this kind of an AU type, so there isn't Jon/Dany, sorry for Jon/Dany fans. I'm still thinking of Jamie/Arya, (it's my guilty ship, ahahaha), but I'm pretty sure Jon/Feryre and Tyrion/Sansa shall be endgame, for now. I always enjoyed Tyrion/Sansa, especially in the show. They deserved better.**_

_**I'm kind of at a standstill for the fanfic for now. I have a somewhat plot going on, so I'll mostly be going by my gut feeling. **_

_**For now, the POV's shall be: Feryre, Jon, Arya, Sansa, Ned, (until his beheading), Maege, Tywin, Jamie, Ceresi, Tyrion, and Daenyrs. **_

_**Other characters/OC's shall be added in soon. **_


End file.
